


Wrinkles in Life

by L_Writes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Coming Out, M/M, Makeup, My first fic so I have no idea what I'm supposed to tag, Self Acceptance, This was supposed to be a short drabble about lipstick but here we are, bear with me, but not really?, kinda angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 19:27:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11698353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L_Writes/pseuds/L_Writes
Summary: Draco Malfoy discovers a tube of his mother's red lipstick and learns that accepting yourself takes time.Goes from the summer before sixth year to eighth.I'm bad at summaries.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, so this is my first fanfic. Um, I hope you like it.  
> All grammar and spelling mistakes are on me. Oops.

      Draco Malfoy had always been enraptured by makeup. Every time someone put on makeup in front of him, he couldn’t help but secretly stare. He longed to see the colours on him and see how his skin would change from its colourless pallor and wake up. That’s why he would stay with his mother while she put on blush and why he would sometimes offer to hold Pansy’s compact as she reapplied her mascara. Narcissa thought Draco just enjoyed her company, but the way her brush swept across her cheek was the main reason why. Pansy thought for years that Draco was secretly in love with her and didn’t know how to show it, it was actually because he was secretly in love with the way lashes would elegantly darken with the stroke of a mascara brush.

      The first time Draco had tried makeup had been the summer before sixth year. He had just been forced to get the Dark Mark and swear his loyalty to He Who Must Not Be Named by his father, and had spent the last hour crying in his parent's room while they were out in a meeting. For the first time in Draco’s life, he had felt truly ugly. He spotted his mother’s vanity, and it was just _there_. He slowly walked up to the table and sat down on the gold chair. The blonde looked at himself and his tear streaked face, the malicious black skull staring at him. He quickly pulled down his sweater to hide the judgemental reminder that there was no turning back now, not that he had ever had much choice in the matter in the first place. Draco’s eyes kept on flitting back to the tube of red lipstick he had been eyeing from across the room before. It was a new tube in his mother’s favourite colour and the Slytherin had seen her apply it a million times. She had once told her husband that it “makes her feel even more beautiful.” Narcissa had said it was an art form that could help transform one’s insecurities into a footnote and amplify confidence. Draco needed some of that right now. 

      With trembling hands, he picked up the lipstick and uncapped the black tube. The bright red stared up at him and Draco drifted towards it like he was under a spell. He touched the surface with the pad of his finger and surveyed the red against his pale skin. It was a shock of colour that reminded him of the roses in the manor garden in the winter, a brilliant red against the white snow. 

_Beautiful_ , he thought. Draco brought the lipstick to his bottom lip and began to apply it carefully. When he finished, he noticed his hands were no longer shaking. He looked beautiful and Draco couldn’t help the smile that grew on his face. He felt as light and bright as the lipstick itself. Laughter burst from his red lips and it was the kind of laughter that happened when people felt free and happy and fulfilled. Draco felt whole. His entire life, he had had a void, you could say. A void that was then filled with insecurities shoved in by his father’s expectations and prejudices. Just like twisting the tube had pushed the lipstick out, putting it on had pushed out those insecurities and replaced them with the lovely red colour he was admiring in the mirror. But when you push those insecurities outside of a void you never acknowledged, you realize that there was a void. Those insecurities are out in the open now and they are staring you in the eyes. Draco’s face in the mirror was joined by Lucius Malfoy.

      “You are not my son, you are a disgrace,” the face snarled. Draco started trembling again but still gripped onto the tube of lipstick. Then came the faces of Hogwarts students, sneering about how ridiculous he looked. Insults were hurled viciously at him by his family, his friends, everyone in the world.

      Draco started crying and quickly stood back from the vanity, knocking Narcissa’s gold chair to the ground. The sound seemed to echo around his head, momentarily clearing away the gleeful jabs of his demons. A tear splashed onto his hand and he looked down at the lipstick. The edge of it was pointed back at him as if accusing him. The shaking boy quickly capped it and set it down on the table. 

      “Master Draco?” a house elf asked from outside the door. 

      “Leave me!” he yelled. Draco took a deep breath, hastily wiping away his tears and lipstick, and setting back the chair. He looked at himself in the mirror and turned, desperate to leave. Draco could see the red on the sleeve of his sweater as he reached for the doorknob and stopped. He was scared and wanted to say that he was confused, but he wasn’t. This felt right to him. It was like finally finding the final wrinkle in a crisp, white shirt and ironing it out. Draco turned around again to stuff the lipstick into his pant pocket before making a hasty exit back to his room with a small, secret smile on his face.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And here comes a bit of angst.

      Throughout sixth year, makeup had been his one constant comfort. Before returning to Hogwarts, Draco had secretly bought more makeup from a muggle store, knowing no one would find him there. He bought a tube of pink lipstick, mascara, eyeliner, and a small green compact. When the weight of his mission from the Dark Lord became too much, Draco would retreat to the bathrooms, triple locking the doors with magic, and apply his makeup. He felt beautiful and happy, looking at himself and the smile plastered on his face. That smile would eventually slip when the fear of being discovered forced him to wash off all his hard work and go back to the life everyone expected him to live. 

      Draco always kept at least one piece of makeup with him at all times in his robe pockets. The rest of it was hidden in his trunk in a small bag, magicked to look empty. The red lipstick he had stolen from his mother was his favourite. Having it made him feel safe. Even if no one can know who I am, I’ll know, Draco always thought. It was somewhat of a risk to have it on him, but he couldn’t bear to be apart from something that made him feel like he truly understood himself. If anyone asked about it, he could say it was Pansy’s and be done with it. 

      He had been feeling especially hopeless that day. Draco was about to skip eating again when he had seen Harry Potter and Katie Bell talking in the Dining Hall. _They knew,_ he thought, just as Potter turned to look at him. _He knows it was me who cursed her._ Draco quickly stalked to the bathroom, loosening his tie while he struggled to breathe. He pulled off his sweater and looked at himself in the mirror, trying to focus on breathing. _I can’t breathe._ He had grown paler and thinner. It was like the life was draining from him and he was now just a shell of who he had been. He splashed some water on his face and hung to the sinks. He was sobbing and Draco was about to reach into his pocket to get his tube of lipstick when he heard a sound and turned around. For the first time, he had forgotten to lock the doors and of course, it had to be Harry Potter who was staring back at him. 

      Potter was rightfully accusing him of hexing Katie Bell, and Draco just _couldn’t take it._ He had wanted to be the great and mighty Harry Potter all his life. He was good and kind and not a coward. Harry felt like living proof that he was a weak, unaccomplished person who had failed all expectations and was about to become a murderer. Draco flung a spell at him. _I have to make sure he doesn’t tell anyone,_ he thought. This wasn’t what Draco wanted but he didn’t want to be another disappointment, and he definitely didn’t want He Must Not Be Named to kill his family.

      Draco and Harry faced each other when suddenly, “ _Sectumsempra!_ ” He felt excruciating pain everywhere on his chest and Draco fell down. He could feel gashes opening up on his chest and his back. Sobs wracked his body and he saw his own blood mixed together with the water on the bathroom tiles. He thought the red resembled his red lipstick, but no, his lipstick was bright and brought on happiness. This red looked like looming liquid tendrils reaching towards him to pull him into the fiery pits of hell. Draco Malfoy couldn’t help but think that maybe this was a good thing. _I won’t have to kill Dumbledore,_ he thought. He would miss his mother dearly, though. And makeup. He would miss that. Draco had dreamed that one day he would be able to show people the talents he had mastered and they would praise him, or at least not mock him. _That day would never come,_ he thought. _But I want it to. And there are so many things I haven’t tried!_ These were the thoughts he hung on to until Snape found him.

      While Severus Snape healed his injuries and Draco slipped into unconsciousness he thought, _I want to survive this. I have to!_ And he did. But Draco Malfoy would have to survive so many other things as well before he truly felt like he was alive.


	3. Chapter Three

      During seventh year Draco didn’t dare to put on makeup. Happiness was not something he seemed to be able to feel that year, and he wasn’t sure he deserved it. I was too dangerous to have it, too, what with the Carrows walking around. They searched students all the time and even though Draco knew they would never touch him, he couldn’t take the risk. If everyone was going to know, it was going to be because Draco told them. So, at the beginning of the school year, the blonde pulled aside another Slytherin and told her. 

      “What is it, Draco?” Pansy asked, concerned. She was one of his best friends, and even though she was annoying as hell, Draco trusted her. He knew she also didn’t want to serve the Dark Lord, like him, she was doing it out of fear and at the insistence of her parents. _We’re in the same boat,_ Draco thought. _The Titanic, perhaps_.

      “Keep this for me.” Draco thrust his makeup bag in her direction and Pansy looked inside. “Makeup? If you're telling me I’m ugly, you're a right git. Why are you giving me this?” she demanded. Picking up his foundation, she said, “This clearly doesn’t match my complexion. It’s more your colour - ” She stopped abruptly and Draco refused to meet her questioning gaze. His heart pounded and he sent a silent prayer that his friend wouldn't mock him like she had in his nightmares. The blonde felt his friend look at the bag and then back at him twice. 

      “I can’t keep it with me anymore. It’s too dangerous and I can’t - I couldn’t -“ Draco broke off and sighed. “No one can find it here or at home so I brought it with me. Please keep it for me for now.”

      Pansy stayed silent for what felt like an eternity to Draco and wrapped her arms tightly around him. “Of course. I won’t tell anyone. It’s okay. This doesn’t matter to me.” Draco felt hot tears welling up in his eyes and hugged her just as tightly. She rubbed his back and whispered, “You’re okay” over and over until his breathing returned to normal and pulled away. 

      “So, how long have you been…doing this?” she prompted gently. “About two years. No one knows,” he said hesitantly. Pansy looked calm and Draco couldn’t help but ask his friend why she didn’t seem more surprised. “I don’t really think I am,” she replied. “I mean, I should be, right? But I’m not. It makes sense to me.”

      She set aside the makeup bag and sat on his bed. “I thought that you would watch me because you liked me, but I think even then I knew I was projecting. You weren’t really looking at me, you were looking at the makeup.” She smiled at him. “You always looked so… _content_ , I guess, when I put on makeup. I tried to do it more often when I first noticed you liked it. I hoped that you would be more interested in me if I did that.” 

      Draco sighed, “It’s not you, Pansy, it’s me. I don’t think I’m interested in any female that way.” He had said it and there was no way to take it back. Draco had never dared say it aloud, but he knew it was true. It felt liberating to share these two pieces of himself.

      “I know. Thanks for telling me. And I’m not shocked by that either. Even if I were, I would still be here for you. What you wear, who you love, which side of this damn war you're on…it doesn’t matter to me. We love each other, just not in that way and I’m perfectly happy with that.”

      They both started sniffling and Draco pulled her into another hug. This was one of those days that he had hoped for in sixth year while he lay on the wet bathroom tile, where he would tell the people who mattered to him about who he was and have them accept him. 

      They stayed like that for a long time and when they drew apart, Pansy smirked and said, “So are you actually any good with makeup, or do you look even worse than Millicent Bulstrode in fifth year?” Draco sputtered indignantly, “Excuse me, no, I do not look like a lovesick clown trying to seduce Samuel Ulrikke!” 

      The two Slytherins spent the afternoon in his locked room talking about makeup, what they would do if the survived the oncoming war, and how no matter what they'd always be friends. The topic of boys also came up, obviously. Slightly cliche, but there was a reason people kept returning to those moments. Those moments were unwavering and comforting, something that never wore out despite the repeated usage.

      “So I know you don’t like the Weasleys, but you totally wanted to snog Fred and George in fourth year,” Pansy laughed. “I did not!” Draco sniffed. “That shade of orange would look completely ridiculous next to me. I prefer darker hair.” 

      “Like Potter’s,” she said in a singsong voice. A light blush bloomed on Draco’s pale face and Pansy cooed. “Shove it, Parkinson, even if I did like him he’s with the Weasley girl,” he said, slightly dejected. The moment quickly turned sombre. Partly because both students knew that the chances of Harry Potter returning Draco’s feelings were almost nil, and his name reminded them of the war that was sure to come. 

      In the months that followed, their friendship was unwavering as well. They were both scared about their futures and what would happen if He Who Must Not Be Named took over the wizarding and muggle world, and scared about what he would do to succeed, but they were not afraid of each other and if their friendship would survive. They had both made mistakes but they were always redeemable to each other. When Draco officially showed Pansy his Dark Mark,  she did not judge him. He had been scared and that was something she understood. When Pansy had shouted to give Harry Potter to the Dark Lord, he did not judge her. She had been scared and that was something he understood. People made mistakes, it was what you did after that mattered. Draco had saved Potter at the Manor and Pansy had fought alongside the other students at the Battle of Hogwarts. Mistakes were what you made in the moment, what you spend all the other moments doing is what differentiates the experience from a lesson and a failure.


	4. Chapter Four

      Draco told his mother the morning of their trial. Draco’s father had been sentenced to a lifetime in Azkaban and Narcissa had been holding up amazingly. She and Draco took care of each other and it was the happiest both of them had been in what felt like forever. This morning, though, she was a bit of a mess. They were due at the trial soon and she was almost ready, but her shaking hands had caused her to mess up on her makeup for the last half hour. Draco was sat across the room, looking at his mother’s reflection curse at the smudged eyeliner. 

      He found himself striding towards her without noticing. “Draco? Are you all right?” she asked. He swallowed and hesitated for a moment. Draco had spent the entire time thinking about correcting Narcissa’s makeup and just thought, _Screw it. My whole life could go to hell in an hour. Why not?_ He took the makeup wipe from her hands and gently took all her makeup off. 

      Narcissa Malfoy was a strong willed woman who protected the people she loved. She had never wanted to rejoin the Dark Lord and only did it because her husband had already thrust him into her and her son’s life. She knew there was no way for her to revolt against it without endangering her son, so she didn’t. When she took the risk to save Harry Potter, it was because she knew that whatever happened, Draco could still get hurt in some way and the Boy Who Lived was the best chance of making sure her son lived. She was strong but the past two years had taken a toll on her, and Draco could see it now clearly without the armour his mother put on every day to face the world. 

      Narcissa didn’t say anything. Draco put on her eyeliner then mascara. He looked at her briefly as he added a little eyeshadow. He took a brush and put on some foundation on her skin. He took out his favourite tube of red lipstick, the same tube that Draco had taken from this vanity from what seemed like a lifetime ago, and put it on her. Draco could feel his mother looking at it but when she started to say something he just said, “You’ll mess up the lines,” and she stopped abruptly. He then took another paler pink lipstick from in front of Narcissa and dabbed some on her cheeks before blending it in. The mother and son had the same pale complexion and he knew that the light pink lipstick would add a nice, natural looking colour to her cheeks. He combed out her eyebrows and said, “Done,” before taking a step back to let her survey his work. 

      Narcissa looked in the mirror and in a choked voice said, “I can’t believe my own son is better at this than I am.” She smiled at him with watery eyes and stood up to hug him. “You aren’t as surprised as I had expected you to be,” he merely stated. “Well, I’m not,” she replied. “You did always like to watch me do my makeup. You are my son, Draco. I would still love you no matter what happened. It is going to take some time for me to adjust if you start looking better than me in my own lipstick, but what can you do?” she joked. “Thank you, Mother,” her son said, astonished.

      “And thank you, Draco, for being so honest with me. We will be all right,” she assured him with a smile. “So, is there anything else you want to tell me? Perhaps you have more of my lipstick?” she laughed. 

      “I like boys,” he blurted. _Two birds with one stone, might as well_ , he thought. “I’ve never been interested in Pansy Parkinson. She’s a dear friend, but I could never marry her. Or any of the other women Father introduced to me. Not Astoria or Penelope, any woman at all.” Draco took a deep breath. “I hope you’ll try to understand.” 

      Draco’s mother pursed her lips but still hugged him again and kissed the top of his head. “ _Always,_ ” she breathed. “I doubt Lucius would be very happy, but you don’t have to worry about him,” she said in a small voice. “I will always be here for you. It is you and me now, and we will be fine.” 

      And they were. Thanks to testimony from Harry Potter, Narcissa and Draco left the trial with probation; a large monetary fine - barely a scratch in their Gringotts vault - which would be donated to help rebuild Hogwarts; and Draco had to attend Hogwarts for his eighth year. Draco felt great and tried to shake off some of his uneasiness. He had planned to go back to school, but the prospect of facing people who no doubt hated him for what he did was looking him straight in the eye and he wasn’t sure what to do. Draco swore to himself that he would make amends with everyone. The war was over and things were falling into a better slot than they were before. Draco wanted to iron out another wrinkle in the fabric of his life.

 


	5. Chapter Five

      Draco received an owl from Professor McGonagall a month before the start of eighth year. _Headmistress_ , he corrected. She wanted to meet with him and he suspected it would be a ministry scripted speech about the grades and behaviour he was expected to uphold from the trial mandate. 

      When he got there, the blonde was joined by a brunette who seemed just as confused as he was. “Malfoy?” Harry Potter said, startled. Draco swallowed. He had expected to apologize and thank him when they had gotten back to school, not now! This was too soon! 

      “Mr Potter, Mr Malfoy,” Headmistress McGonagall greeted. “I’ve called you here today to talk about housing arrangements. I would like the two of you to be roommates.” Both students stared at her in surprise. Potter opened and closed his mouth like a spluttering fish several times before saying, “Professor?” 

      “I think it would be good to encourage personal reparations with the different houses and students,” she continued. “It would do us all some good to see that it is possible to move on. But given your history, if you think this arrangement will cause more problems then you should tell me now. It would be even worse if you two started fighting each other.”

      “May we have some time to discuss?” Draco said. McGonagall and Harry seemed surprised that he was so polite but he brushed it aside. Draco couldn’t really blame their shock, it was well warranted. 

      “Of course, Mr Malfoy. I’ll be back in a few moments.” She left her office and the two Hogwarts students were left with each other. 

      “Before you say anything, Potter, I want to apologize.” Draco turned to the Gryffindor and continued, “I’m sorry for the things I said and did to you and your friends. I meant most of them then, but not now. I was bitter that you refused my offer of friendship in front of everyone and blinded by the things I was taught to believe. I’ll apologize to your friends when I see them, of course.” 

      Harry stayed silent before offering his hand. “Call me Harry,” he said, and Draco took his hand. “It might take me a while to get used to that, Harry. Call me Draco,” the blonde said with a laugh. 

      “I want to say some things, as well,” Harry sighed. “I didn’t mean to hurt you in sixth year. We were petty kids then and I think that we can work to put that behind us. I also want to thank you for lying at the Manor and please tell your mother that I’m really grateful she lied to Voldemort. I wouldn’t be here today if you two hadn’t done those things.” 

      Draco cringed slightly when he heard the Dark Lord’s name. “I want to thank you for your testimony, Potter.”

      “It’s Harry,” he corrected, smiling and straightening his glasses.

      “Oh, just take it as a nickname, Harry.”

      The Boy Who Lived laughed and said, “You can say his name, you know. Voldemort, I mean. He’s gone now.”

      “That will take some getting used to, as well,” Draco said. Just then, McGonagall came back into her office. “Well? Have you both decided,” she asked.

      Draco and Harry looked at each other, and Harry told her yes. “Wonderful. The rooming list will be sent to all the other students next week. I’ll see you both when school starts.” 

      Harry got up to leave but Draco faced McGonagall and apologized to her. “I’m sorry for what I did, Headmistress. From what I said in class to helping the Carrows, I’m sorry.” She smiled and accepted his apology, saying, “This year is about reparations for all of us, I think. I hope more people follow your example, Mr Malfoy.”

    

      Draco walked with Harry through the corridors of Hogwarts and asked him if he thought the Weasleys would be okay with Draco stopping by to apologize. Harry smiled and flooed there together. Harry went first to tell Mrs Weasley before Draco arrived. 

      Mr and Mrs Weasley called down for her children and Hermione to come downstairs. George drew his wand when he saw Draco, but Harry quickly told him that he had invited the Slytherin. Everyone stared at Draco, who cleared his throat and made a show of setting down his wand on the table away from his reach.

      “I would like to apologize,” he said. “For everything me and my family have said. My father probably doesn’t feel sorry, so I’m apologizing for that too. I don’t believe in the things I did and I’m sorry for ever meaning them. I don’t expect any of you to forgive me, but you all deserve to know that I regret everything.” 

      When Draco finished, Mrs Weasley hugged him. He was caught by surprise but hugged her back. “And I’m sorry, dear, if what I did to your Aunt Bellatrix upsets you,” she said carefully. Draco was definitely shocked. He had done so many horrible things to her family and she still cared enough to apologize for that. It was different from what he had expected. At best, he thought they'd nod curtly and point him to the door.

      “Yes, I’ve been meaning to thank you for that,” Draco laughed. Surprisingly, all of the people in the room told him that they believed him, although it would take time to forgive him. 

      “I really am sorry, Ginny, for second year. What my father did…” Draco trailed off. “And for everything I said to you, too, Ron.” Draco owed these people too much, he thought. Draco told Mr Weasley that he was sorry for all the things Lucius had ever said; he gave his condolences about Fred to George, who nodded stiffly and politely thanked him in a choked voice; and swore to Hermione that he would never use slurs again. 

      Everyone in the room was on the verge of tears, the blonde included. Mrs Weasley asked him if he wanted to stay for lunch but he declined, thanking her for her kindness but said that he had plans with his mother. Draco told Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione that he would see them at school and flooed home to the Manor. 

      When he got there, he and his mother apparated to muggle London to eat lunch and he bought her a tube of what was now their favourite red lipstick. “Finally,” she said. “Took you three years but at least it’s here now.” They laughed and Draco felt another wrinkle smooth out in his life. Things were coming together finally.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Draco Malfoy could have seriously had the best come back story in the history of the world, so I decided to write a bunch of apologies.


	6. Chapter Six

      Hogwarts had fewer students than usual, but that was expected. What wasn't expected was for the number of new students to be the same and for most of the old students to return, including Slytherins. Everyone just wanted to get their lives back. It was expected that some people attacked Draco and other Slytherins, but what wasn't expected was for other students to defend them and for Draco to become a leader. He taught the younger students deflective spells and would help them with their homework. Pansy told him that Harry was rubbing off on him and the blonde couldn’t help but laugh. People were surprised, but the ones who knew them the best were not so fazed. The two boys understood each other and got along. Large parts of their lives had been controlled by others. Harry had the prophecy and Draco had his parents. 

      Draco and Harry spent a lot of time together and even owled each other every day during the winter holiday. Ron told Hermione that it was “almost as obsessive as sixth year” this morning at breakfast. Draco and Harry didn’t hear them, though, they were too busy working on their homework. Or, Draco was telling Harry that he needed neater handwriting while he proofread the Gryffindor’s potions essay. 

      Everyone sat at different tables now, not caring too much about the house arrangements. Harry had always thought the whole system breeded hatred and negative exclusivity than house pride and friendly competition. Everyone liked it better this way. People were allowed to make more friends and see that stereotypes were not always true. Just look at the Golden Trio and the ex-Death Eater, they had assimilated well, even if Draco and Ron sometimes got too heated about Wizard Chess. They had become so close that Draco contemplated telling them he wore makeup and liked boys several times. He couldn’t, though. These friendships were too important and fragile to risk it. Or at least that’s what he said to himself. In truth, Draco was scared of rejection from the people he felt honest and comfortable with.

    

      “Why are you looking at me like that?” Harry asked as they poured over his essay. _I’m thinking about how I’d be heartbroken if you ever hated me for being me,_ Draco thought. _I don’t want to mess up this friendship. I’ve messed up on too many things already. This is too important._

      “Nothing,” he said nonchalantly and Harry shrugged, observant as always. They continued to look over the parchment in comfortable silence and Draco felt Pansy looking at him. He gave her an easy smile that had come to see the light much more often now, but still did nothing to ease her worried thoughts. 

 _This isn’t just friendship, Draco,_ she thought. _This is falling in love._  Harry was unconsciously leaning on Draco so much that when the blonde shifted to get something from his bag, Harry's leg lost its footing. The two continued to not notice the way they were looking at each other like the other one hung the moon and ignored the way everyone else looked at them like they were inevitable.

      Draco still wore makeup in secret and started to look at Harry Potter through a different lens now, but still in the same way. Draco had looked at the Boy Wonder with longing and sadness before, a person whom he could never even begin to imagine he could have. Now, he looked at Harry Potter with more longing and more sadness, a person whom he loved but still believed he could never have. She wouldn’t tell him what she thought yet. Neither of them were ready to face their feelings and she could see that. Pansy looked at Hermione and Ron, who both gave her an exasperated look as if to say, _we know_.

 

 

 


	7. Chapter Seven

      Harry and Draco both had nightmares. PTSD was something that too much of the young students of Hogwarts had to go through. The first week of rooming together, Draco had to wake Harry up from a nightmare. They stared at each other for a moment before the Slytherin silently returned to his side of the room. 

      They always did this for each other and in the third week, the Boy Who Lived woke Draco from a nightmare and they stayed up talking until they both fell asleep in his bed. This became the routine; nightmare, waking up and then talking till they fell asleep. By the second month, they just decided to go to sleep together to make it easier for them both. It also helped to have each other as a physical reminder that Voldemort was gone and things were better now. They no longer truly had enemies and even if their old foes haunted them at night, when they opened their eyes the two boys would have someone to talk to who understood what he was going through.

      “Harry! HARRY, WAKE UP!” Draco screamed. His roommate jolted up and their heads would have collided painfully if years of being chased by Quaffles hadn't trained Draco to automatically dodge. Harry was disoriented and Draco rubbed his back gently until the other boy’s breathing evened out. They stayed like that for a little while until the blonde asked his roommate what the nightmare was about. 

      Harry told him. It had started out in an exact replica of their room until all of Draco’s stuff started to fade. “All of your stuff, just gone. You know, my desk really isn’t that messy if you don’t compare it to yours,” Harry said, trying to change the subject. Not taking the bait, Draco rolled his eyes halfheartedly and told the Gryffindor to get on with it, curious to know why Harry was hesitant to tell him about the dream. They told each other everything but if it was that bad, Draco wouldn’t force him. Harry started talking again but in a slower pace. “Different moments of my life from the past three years flashed before my eyes, except you weren’t in them. I asked Hermione where you were and she said you had died,” he choked. 

      “She said you had died in sixth year when a mysterious attacker slashed at you with swords in the bathrooms.” Draco handed Harry a glass of water which he immediately drained before continuing, “It was me. I was the one who killed you. The _sectumsempra_ spell. Then I went back to that moment and Snape didn’t come. I started crying because I didn't know what to do and you said - you said you hated me. And then you died.” Harry had started crying halfway through and Draco wrapped his arms around him tightly and stroked his hair. 

      “Everything is okay,” the blonde whispered. “I’m here and I could never hate you, Harry. I know we’ve never really properly spoken about what happened in the bathrooms, but you should know that I don’t blame you. I never did.” Harry pulled away slightly and held onto Draco’s hands. 

      “I didn’t know what the spell would do,” Harry said. “My potions book just said that it was for enemies and I used it in the heat of the moment. It was an old book that Snape made notes in. I didn’t know what I was doing. I’m sorry.” 

      Draco stroked the back of his hand and told him, “I know. I don’t blame you.” Harry let out a shaky breath and said, “No, Draco, you should blame me. I almost killed you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I was sorry then, even when I did see you as an enemy.” Draco gave Harry a teasing smile. “You don’t see me as an enemy now, Potter?” Harry chuckled and bumped their knees together fondly but very seriously told him, “No, you’re not my enemy. You’re one of my best friends.” He hesitated before saying, “I love you Draco.”

      “I love you, too.” It was the first time they had said that and the two boys couldn't help the way their faces just lit up. They lay back down on the bed, not speaking. Harry turned over on his side to look at Draco and said, “Tell me a secret, Malfoy.” 

      Draco looked at him and their entwined hands. _I love you in a different way_ , the Slytherin thought. Instead he just said, “Why? If I knew we would be confessing secrets and braiding each other’s hair I would have brought Pansy and told her we were having a sleepover.” _Now, who's changing the subject_ , Draco thought.

      Draco continued to look at him but said nothing, so the Gryffindor sighed and decided he would go first. “Ginny and I broke up during the summer. We just let people think we’re dating because I don’t want to get attacked by my ‘fan club,’ as you dubbed them.” 

      They went back and forth trading secrets and anecdotes. Draco loved the Spice Girls, Harry physically couldn’t cut his hair, Draco never learned how to ride a bike, that kind of stuff. 

      “The first time I ever talked to a snake was on my cousin’s birthday. I didn’t know I was a wizard then, so I accidentally charmed the plexiglass away and he fell into the snake habitat. It was a gigantic snake that came up to me and thanked me for setting it free. Then we couldn’t get Dudley out because the glass reappeared,” Harry laughed. Draco was laughing so hard that he was gasping for breath. “He just _fell in?!_ What was your cousin doing, leaning on the glass?”

      “Well, yeah! He had just been aggravating the snake. Kept on banging on the glass and yelling at it to move.” Draco told Harry Dudley seemed like an oaf and Harry said, “He was an oaf, but he was an alright person in the end. My aunt and uncle spoiled him and taught him to be like that.” 

      “He sounds like me,” Draco noticed. 

      “Yeah, but you're nicer to me than he’ll ever be. I still kind of hate him and my aunt and uncle for everything they did,” Harry said. Draco knew that Harry had been raised by muggles but had never heard his friend talk much about his childhood. 

      “They would always undermine me and were just cruel. That’s why Hogwarts was so different for me. It wasn’t the magic, it was the people. The Dursleys would never encourage me to do well in anything so that I could never be better than Dudley. Here it’s so different,” Harry sighed. “So much is expected of me. In good ways but it can be overwhelming, too.” Draco’s roommate turned to look at the ceiling. “Some of the things I learned there are useful to me now and I’m glad that I know how to do them, but the way I learned those lessons were horrible.”

      Harry told Draco all about life with the Dursleys and the more he heard, the angrier and guiltier Draco felt. He learned about how Harry’s life was never what he'd thought it had been. Harry’s relatives would treat him like a servant and shun him for his magic. They crushed his confidence for entertainment and when Harry told Draco about the time he realized he had never truly felt warm, family affection and love until he had met the Weasleys, Draco nearly cried and sent a silent prayer thanking the wonderful family. Draco couldn’t imagine living like that and again thanked the stars that Harry no longer had to live with those awful people. The blonde had wanted to strangle Dudley and when Harry said, “I think that’s why I hated you so much. You reminded me of the way Dudley bullied me. He would insult me and make fun of the hand-me-downs I got from him like how you talked to Ron when you first met him,” Draco felt more ashamed than when he had gotten the Dark Mark. _No one had the right to make another person feel so inferior,_ the blonde knew. It had took Draco some time, but he knew now.

      “My turn,” Draco said. Harry had just bared his soul to him and he knew he could trust the other boy. “Wait here.” 

      Draco got up and rummaged through his trunk until he found his makeup bag and brought it over to the bed. “So when I first got the Dark Mark I was miserable. I felt disgusted with myself and just wanted to feel, well, beautiful. It was the first time I didn’t like myself,” Draco said. _A first of many times,_ he thought. Harry sat up as well and put his hand on his roommate’s knee. Draco took a deep breath and unzipped his makeup bag, carefully tipping the contents onto the bed. He turned to Harry who looked slightly confused at first but then quickly pivoted to look at Draco in shock. 

      “I took a tube of Mother’s lipstick and I loved it. So, I kept going.” Harry didn’t look disgusted, which was a good sign. He looked a bit stuck between shock and something else that Draco couldn’t quite place. 

      “Can I see? Will you put some on?” Harry asked hesitantly.

      Draco nodded numbly. “Um, we should probably go to the bathrooms for this.” So they did. Harry stood next to him a few feet away and watched the blonde clean his face and slowly apply the makeup. Draco had done it a million times before but still couldn't help the smile that bloomed on his face every time. 

      “You look really happy,” Harry said quietly with a small smile. 

      “Well, I am.”

      “Can you do it a bit slower?” the Gryffindor asked shyly, a slight blush on his face. Draco could only nod and realized Harry had drifted closer to him throughout the entire ordeal. Harry would sometimes ask quiet questions like what certain bottles and brushes were used for and why Draco didn’t use actual blush for his cheeks, substituting it for pink. 

      “I’ve always done it like this. I think cosmetic blush looks unnatural against my skin tone,” Draco replied. Harry just nodded like it made all the sense in the world and went back to letting Draco work in comfortable silence.     

      When Draco was done, Harry stared at him for a long time before clearing his throat. “You look beautiful,” Harry breathed. Draco thanked him, blushing. They unconsciously drifted closer to each other until there were only a couple inches separating them. Draco’s breathing stirred Harry’s hair and when he looked into Draco’s eyes the gap closed and they kissed. Their lips were soft against each other and it was a light, barely there brush of the lips. They parted and Draco looked at the other boy who was smiling and the blonde thought that Harry’s eyes were just so _green_. _That’s my new favourite colour_ , Draco decided.

      They closed the gap again and their kisses were firmer and surer this time. Draco pulled Harry closer to him once again, their arms wrapped around each other, and they smiled against each other’s lips. The morning sun streamed through the stained glass windows, painting them in a gentle rainbow. 


	8. Chapter Eight

      "So I think I want to tell everyone,” Draco said while he and Harry laid in bed. Harry stopped playing with his fingers. “Tell everyone what?” the brunette said cautiously.

      “About me wearing makeup,” said Draco. Harry looked equal parts proud, relieved, and disappointed. When Draco told him as much, his boyfriend gave him a little smile and said, “I am so proud and happy that you want to tell people who you are, babe. I just - well, I thought you meant you were going to tell everyone about _us_.”

      Draco stopped playing with Harry’s hair. “Do you _want_ to tell everyone about us?” _Cause I do. I don’t want to rush into this but it would feel right,_ Draco thought.

      “I think so,” Harry said hesitantly. “I’m not going to pressure you into coming out, but I want to be able to hold your hand and kiss you in the Great Hall without doubting myself in front of everyone. I want that and I’ve been denying it when people ask if Ginny and I are dating. Do you want to?”

      Draco realized with a start that he did want that. He wanted to proudly tell people that Harry was his boyfriend and that they were serious. 

      Harry took Draco’s silence as a bad thing and immediately rushed to say, “I mean, we’ve been dating for almost a month and a half so I was thinking that we were serious - are we serious? Cause I would like for us to be. Serious, that is.” 

      Draco laughed and kissed Harry, who gave him a relieved smile. “You’re rambling, Potter. Yes, I want us to be serious,” the Slytherin said. “Would you mind if I came out about makeup before, well, _coming out_?”

      “You’re always so articulate, Mr Advanced Runes,” Harry teased. “I would never mind. I get it, I really do.” Draco couldn’t help his smile and kissed his amazing boyfriend again. _How life has changed_ , he thought happily. The person Draco had regarded as an enemy was now the person he trusted most, the person that made him feel completely safe and loved. _Am I in love_ , Draco thought. And if he was, would that be such a bad thing?

 

      A couple days later, Draco looked amazing, sporting a bright red lip while he refused to leave his and Harry’s room. Draco still wanted to do this, he wanted to be himself in front of everyone. It was just so damn _scary_ , though, to know that people would stare and whisper. 

      Harry took Draco’s clammy hands. “I’ll be right beside you. You look beautiful and I’m not sure if this is the right time to unload all of this on you, but I love you. Draco, you can do this.” 

      The blonde couldn’t help the gasp that escaped his lips. “I love you, too,” he breathed. They both smiled and Draco pulled Harry close. Their foreheads were touching and Harry’s arm wrapped around his waist. Gray eyes met green ones, the edges of their eyes crinkling from their smiles. The blonde felt secure and happy. Accepted in every sense of the word.

 _It doesn't matter if people reject me_ , Draco thought. _They will never know what I went through and what this all means to me._ He had gone through so much to make his life better and Draco was fast approaching the last wrinkles in his life. Makeup and then coming out were the last steps to showing who he was and Draco couldn’t wait to face the world head on now that he had the support he needed. His mum, Pansy, and now Harry and all their friends. They would be there for him, Draco knew it in his gut that it was true. The blonde was slightly scared to put himself out there in ways he had never dared to even think about before, but when he looked into the reassuring green in Harry’s eyes, Draco knew that what he was doing was right and true to himself. 

      “The ones who care don’t matter, and the ones who matter don’t care,” Harry told his boyfriend. “It’s a quote from a muggle children’s story but it’s always stuck with me. Whatever happens, I’ll always be here for you and so will our friends. I know it.”

      “And I know it too,” said Draco. “Okay, let’s go.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah! It's finished!  
> I hope you guys liked it.  
> Just wanted to add that I really wanted the ending to be open ended. I wanted to focus on how an important theme in this fic was self acceptance. Like as long as Draco was ready and accepted himself, then he was okay. The people who matter will always stick with you and everything else is just trivial, you know?


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